


After School Lessons

by Cock_Zero



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cock_Zero/pseuds/Cock_Zero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is failing Art and it's only two weeks into the year. He asks his friend, and the teacher's aide, Gerard for tutor lessons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After School Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> For a very special Frankie for her birthday.

Frank fidgeted in front of the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Stevens had asked him to stay after and he thought he was going to have to clean under the desks, like Dr. Jones, his eleventh grade Science teacher, did last year. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?” he asked, rubbing his arm.

“Yes, Frank,” she said. “Oh, Gerard, can you make sure the sculpting clay is out and ready for tomorrow?” she asked her teacher’s aide.

Frank glanced over, seeing the young man nod with a smile. He knew Gerard for a few years, since he was a senior himself. He was in his fourth year of college now, working on becoming an art teacher, and this year he had to do an internship at the local high school. 

If anyone ever said that Gerard was the reason Frank took up art in his final year, he would have denied it instantly.

“Your grade is already a D and it’s only two weeks into the year. I’ve never seen someone so unenthusiastic willingly choose art,” Mrs. Stevens said, calling Frank’s attention back on her. 

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll do better,” Frank said, looking down and shuffling his feet.

“See that you do. You’re dismissed,” she said, pulling a workbook closer to her.

Frank hitched his bag up and hurried out of the classroom. School was over and he was struck by an amazing idea. He stood outside the art room and waited.

It was almost twenty minutes before the door opened and Frank jumped.

“Frank? I thought you went home,” Gerard said. He adjusted the strap going across his chest as he closed the door back.

“Uh, yeah. I was wondering,” Frank started, scratching at the short hair on his head. He still wasn’t used to it after having his dreads last year. “Could you tutor me in art?” he blurted out, biting his lip.

Gerard frowned. “I don’t know,” he hummed. “I have a lot to do already with the internship.”

“Please? Only for like an hour a day or something. That’s all I need. I can’t fail art, it’s the only elective I’m taking and I’m your friend,” he said. He pouted out his bottom lip and folded his hands together in front of his chest. “Friends help friends, right?”

Gerard groaned. “Fine, come over tomorrow two hours after school. But,” he started, cutting off Frank’s victory dance, “I will not do your work for you. I will only help you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Frank shrieked, latching onto Gerard’s arm before running down the hallway. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” he shouted leaving Gerard shaking his head.

~

Frank bounced on his toes, ringing Gerard’s doorbell again. The door was wretched open and Frank grinned. “I’m here and it’s exactly,” he glanced at his watch, “two hours and two minutes after school ended. You’d better not take those two minutes away from me since you were the one who didn’t answer the door when I first rang.”

“Don’t worry,” Gerard said, opening the door wider, “I’m not gonna dock you time. I didn’t even put out a timer.” Frank walked passed him and into the open living room, dropping his bag on the floor before falling back onto the couch. “Make yourself at home, Frank. It’s not like you’re here for lessons or anything.”

“You say something?” Frank asked, rolling his head back and grinning. 

Gerard shook his head, closing the door. “No, nothing.” He walked into the apartment and stood in front of Frank. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do. I know you have a very low D and need at least a B before report card day, so let’s move,” he said, clapping his hands.

“But, what are we gonna do?” Frank asked.

“Well, I figured I’d teach you a little of everything and, since you’re working on sculpting at the moment, we’ll start with that. To the studio,” he said, grabbing Frank’s hand. He pulled him off the couch and ushered him down the hall to the spare bedroom turned studio.

Frank groaned, entering the bright room. He saw two blocks of sculpting clay and frowned. “Man, I hate clay. I can never get it off my hands.” He looked at his fingers, seeing the dried white clay still under his nails from class.

“That’s because you don’t wash your hands properly,” Gerard smirked.

“Hey!” Frank whined, being shoved into the seat.

Gerard sat next to him, scooting his chair close. “Now, we’re gonna try something fairly simple.”

“Simple for you maybe,” Frank commented. 

Gerard ignored him. “A simple human figure. It doesn’t have to have human features, just the basic shape of a human body. I’m gonna make one, too.”

“What?” Frank gawked at him. “We’re making, like, fruit in class. This is way above my level,” he exclaimed.

“Nah, you can do it,” Gerard grinned, patting him on the shoulder. “Just, watch me first, okay? I’ll show you the technique you should be using.”

Frank sighed and nodded, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand. He watched Gerard’s fingers work the clay, softening it and shaping it. He was so focused in his work and Frank was mesmerized by his hands. 

The way his fingers pushed the clay around, smoothed it out and left no fingerprints. The way his palms cupped it as he filled out the middle section, adding the illusion of hips and a waist to the figure. Frank hadn’t noticed Gerard started talking until his hands dropped from the clay.

“What?” he asked, licking his lips.

“I said, did you pay attention to what I did?” Gerard asked. He raised his eyebrows, turning towards Frank and leaving his newly formed statuette on the table.

Frank nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah. I saw.” He shifted, turning in his chair and glowered at the clay.

“Go on, it’s not going to sculpt itself,” Gerard said.

_Too bad,_ Frank thought. He heaved out a sigh and started working the clay until it was pliable. 

After almost forty minutes, Frank was more than ready to give up. His figure looked nothing like Gerard’s. It didn’t even look human, for one.

“I give up,” he groaned, pushing himself away from the clay abomination. “Stupid clay must be busted.”

“Clay can’t be ‘busted’,” Gerard laughed. “Just, here.” He grabbed the clay, placed it between them and took Frank’s hands. “Try this,” he said, setting Frank’s fingers in a different position. He worked them into the clay, smoothing it gently.

Frank’s eyes widened. He wasn’t even watching the clay being shaped. He was too focused on Gerard’s hands. Those soft fingers touching his own, his palms pressed to the back of Frank’s hands. He could feel his ears heat up and he shifted his legs.

“Got it?” Gerard asked softly, releasing Frank’s hands.

“Y-yeah,” he said, biting his lip. He exhaled slowly and tried to move his fingers in the same way Gerard had. He smiled when the clay moved how he wanted but he was still nowhere near the skill Gerard was. 

Gerard watched him close, leaning back in his chair. “See? It’s not busted,” he grinned. Frank flipped him off with a clay coated finger and he laughed. “C’mon, hour’s almost up,” he said.

“Aw, really?” Frank whined, watching Gerard stand. He slumped in the chair as Gerard packed the clay away.

“Yes, really. Now go wash your hands,” Gerard said. “There’s soap and a fingernail brush by the sink.”

Frank shoved himself off the chair and shuffled to the kitchen. He was glad he wasn’t hard anymore as he turned the hot tap on and squirted soap into his hands.

“Use the fingernail brush,” Gerard said, walking into the kitchen. He started washing his hands with Frank, grabbing the small brush and scrubbing at the clay under his nails. “Here.” He handed the brush to Frank and rinsed his hands, drying them on the hand towel.

Frank scrubbed at his hands and nails, cleaning most of the clay before rinsing and drying his hands. “So,” he started, walking to the living room. He stopped in front of his bag and looked over at Gerard. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Gerard hummed and walked over. “Yeah, same time tomorrow. We’ll stick with clay for a few more days,” he said. “Then we’ll move to pastels. I think that’s what Mrs. Stevens has planned.”

“Yeah, okay,” Frank nodded. He grabbed up his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder. Smiling, he moved to the front door, Gerard following him. “See ya,” he said, opening the door.

“Same time, same place,” Gerard said, patting him on the back.

Frank grinned, ducking his head and leaving the apartment. Gerard said ‘goodbye’ and closed the door as Frank walked down the hallway.

He wondered if Gerard would be that hands on for all their sessions. He didn’t know what to do if he was though.

~

The weeks passed by quickly. Too quickly for Frank. He had started spending more time over at Gerard’s after the tutor sessions, even after Gerard told him he would be bored.

Frank never cared. He’d sit and watch Gerard paint or draw, usually asking about his technique to which Gerard would explain. Frank never understood half of what he said but he enjoyed hearing him speak and watching the way Gerard’s hands moved.

He was sat on the sofa, the TV volume low while Gerard sat in the armchair, an easel propped up in front of him.

“So, I’m up to a low B now,” Frank said. Gerard only hummed, mixing paint on the board resting on his thigh. Frank frowned. His lesson had ended nearly half an hour ago and Gerard was already absorbed into his art. “It’s my birthday,” he said, lying across the couch.

Gerard continued to ignore him.

Frank whined and stretched out on the couch, rolling over to his stomach and watching Gerard paint. He eyed his fingers up, watching how they grabbed the brush, the way Gerard twisted his wrist to get certain patterns, the way he leaned forward, a look of sheer concentration on his face. Frank shivered, images of those fingers touching his body flitting through his mind.

Or it was less ‘flitting’ and more ‘stampeding’ through his mind.

He shifted on the couch, trying to rub against the cushions, hoping it didn’t look like he was rubbing against them.

His brain was not helping him, sending him images of Gerard touching his thighs, his hips, his cock. He bit his lip, wincing. “Gerard,” he whispered, getting no reply.

Frank rolled off the couch, groaning as he hit the floor. Gerard didn’t flinch. He crawled over and sat on his left, watching him paint for a moment before setting his sights on Gerard’s free hand. It was resting lightly on his thigh, twitching every few seconds. He reached out, touching Gerard’s fingers and still getting no response.

He started gently stroking the digits, looking up to Gerard’s face when he picked up his hand, bringing it to his mouth. He licked the index finger, just brushing his tongue over the pad.

No reaction.

Frank moved on to the middle finger, licking it from the middle up. Gerard’s fingers twitched again. He moved them closer to his mouth, licking and closing his lips around them, sucking gently.

Gerard’s hand stopped, the brush freezing on the canvas. 

Frank glanced up at him, closing his eyes partway and holding back a smirk when he moaned. 

He slipped the fingers from his mouth and Gerard swallowed thickly, eyes becoming hazy as he looked at his spit slick fingers. “Frank,” he whispered, voice thick. “We can’t, um. Ages.”

“It’s Halloween,” Frank said, licking Gerard’s fingertip again.

Gerard frowned, forehead creasing and making Frank chuckle.

“It’s my birthday. I’m eighteen,” he explained and Gerard nodded slowly. Frank sucked the digits back into his mouth.

The brush dropped from Gerard’s hand, paint staining the carpet as he pulled his fingers out of Frank’s mouth, replacing them with his tongue.

Frank moaned, grabbing Gerard’s shirt and tugging him closer. He slid out of the chair, falling to his knees and shoving Frank to the ground. Frank went willingly, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s neck and spreading his legs open, letting Gerard get closer. He moaned, bucking his hips up when Gerard rutted against him.

Gerard’s hands reached for Frank’s belt, unbuckling it and working his jeans open. He slipped his hand into Frank’s boxers just as Frank bit down on his lip and they both groaned. 

Frank released his lip, rolling his head back as he moaned. His short nails scratched at Gerard’s shirt before grasping it and pulling it up his back. “Off. Off. C’mon,” he whined, tugging on the shirt. He yanked it over Gerard’s head, mussing his hair up and Gerard grabbed at his shirt.

He sat up, forcing Gerard to kneel as he yanked his shirt off. Gerard worked on getting his own pants off while Frank shoved his jeans off his hips, kicking them away and pulling Gerard back on top of him.

Gerard kissed him, pulling on his lip before letting go and leaving a trail of wet kisses down Frank’s chest. He nipped at the extra weight still sitting at Frank’s hips and moved to lick his cock, tongue teasing just below the head and making Frank whine and squirm. 

“Ple-ease, oh god.” Frank’s head rolled to the side, hands tensing on the carpet.

He smiled and slowly dragged his tongue over the tip, giving his own cock a squeeze. Another lick, this time up the side, and Frank bit his lip. Gerard flicked his tongue over the slit, watching Frank twitch, and took the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue.

Frank groaned, hips jerking and socked feet sliding over the carpet. “Fuck.”

Gerard placed his free arm over Frank’s hips, holding them lightly. He took more of Frank’s cock in, sucking and swirling his tongue, pressing just below the head before pulling off and blowing on the wet skin. He smiled when Frank shivered and clutched his hand.

He started to jerk himself off, taking Frank back into his mouth as Frank pulled his hand up to his mouth, sucking on the fingers.

Glancing up, Gerard moaned. He wanted that perfect mouth on his dick. He let go of himself and grasped Frank’s cock, spit coating his hand as he stroked him off in time with his mouth.

“Fu-Gerard,” Frank moaned around Gerard’s fingers. “Jesus, don’t stop.”

Gerard dropped his hand when Frank’s thighs started shaking and his breaths shortened. He took him in slowly, cock nearing the back of his throat when Frank gasped, coming in his mouth. He pulled after a few pulses, letting the rest land on Frank’s stomach as he wiped his mouth and swallowed.

“That’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Frank said, panting lightly. He rolled them over, sliding in between Gerard’s legs and quickly took his cock into his mouth, grabbing the base gently. He lapped at the head, trying to emulate what Gerard had done to him. His brain was still offline and he was sure he was awful but Gerard’s moans were encouraging him.

He took him in farther, nearly gagging and clenching his eyes shut. He pulled back slightly, working Gerard with his hand and he focused his tongue of the head.

Gerard groaned, fingers scratching at Frank’s hair. His hips jerked suddenly and Frank pulled away as he came. It hit his lip and chin before he got far enough away. Gerard let out a breath and grabbed Frank’s hand, pulling him up into a kiss.

Frank groaned when they pulled away, cum on both of their faces. “Gross,” he laughed, wiping his face with his palm. 

Gerard licked his lips and wiped them. He reached up onto the coffee table and grabbed the spare towel he always brought out, cleaning his hand and stomach before handing it to Frank. He stood while Frank wiped himself clean, dropping the towel back on the table. He grabbed the cover from the back of the couch and Frank walked over, covering himself slightly. “C’mon, before you catch a cold.” He sat on the sofa and smiled, holding the blanket open.

Frank sat next to him, the couch dipping between them and forcing them closer as Gerard wrapped the cover around his shoulders. 

He grabbed the remote and turned the TV up, changing it to one of the cartoon channels. “How did you end up so bad at art anyway?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the TV.

“Oh, I, um,” Frank mumbled. “I’m just shit at it.”

“Yeah, you’re nowhere near as good as me,” Gerard grinned, squeezing Frank’s waist.

Frank whined and shoved him playfully. “Don’t be a fucking ass.” Gerard laughed and kissed him softly. “So, I guess you can’t be my tutor anymore? Since we, y’know,” he trailed off.

“I don’t think you need one anymore,” Gerard hummed. “I know what grade you have. But if I catch you failing on purpose, I’ll just let you fail,” he warned and Frank laughed.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would,” Gerard grinned.

Frank pouted, crossing his arms. “Ass,” he said, holding back his smile.


End file.
